


The Middle Ground | Snowy One-Shot

by Milliadoc_Brandybuck



Series: The Middle Ground [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Snowball Fight, Winter, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milliadoc_Brandybuck/pseuds/Milliadoc_Brandybuck
Summary: Jon and Dria grow close during a snowball fight. (Prequel to the main fic)**This chapter is in response to a Christmas Fanfiction Prompt challenge: Your OTP have a snowball fight.**
Relationships: Jon Snow/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Middle Ground [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573510
Kudos: 1
Collections: Christmas Prompts 2020





	The Middle Ground | Snowy One-Shot

Being a foreigner was hard enough in Westeros, but being a foreigner in the North was harder still. The country in which Adria had grown up had been warm. She had known nothing but the heat of the sun and the sand beneath her feet until the age of twelve. The North of Westeros was endlessly cold, bitterly so on Adria’s accustomed bones. She spent endless hours shivering under the canopy as she watched over Sansa and little Arya. She had been in Winterfell for 

Adria Tawn was ladies maid to Arya Stark, and by extension her sister Sansa. She was fourteen years old with pale skin, bright turquoise eyes, long brown hair and already she was hopelessly beautiful. All the men of the castle had their eyes on her already, waiting for opportunity. They never pounced, thankfully, as they knew how much Lord Stark himself cared for the girl and how much punishment they would receive if they so much as laid an unwanted finger on her. 

Adria had been born on the island of Dauphin in the Narrow Sea. Her father Simeon had been the Lord of the Tawn family, the richest family in Dauphin and the closest thing they had to a ruling House, until civil war between him and her uncle had caused her to flee with her mother at the age of thirteen. Their boat had been dashed and her mother killed, and Adria had washed ashore just East of White Harbour where, by some miracle, the kindly Lord Eddard Stark had been visiting at the time. He had taken Dria home as a guest and offered her shelter in exchange for loyalty to the family. After Arya had taken a shine to Adria, looking up to her more than she looked up to her own sister, Ned had appointed her the position of ladies maid. 

Everyone in the castle adored Dria. She was soft-spoken, kind-hearted and would rather laugh than scowl. She was so very different from the hard Northerners that she lived with. She was a literal breath of fresh, warm air. 

Which was why she found the icy winds of the North so bitterly hard to deal with. It was still summer in the rest of Westeros, but the North seemed to not have received the message. Dria drew her thick cloak around her Southern bones as she watched the girls playing in the snow that was falling thick and fast. This wasn’t winter, it was simply the way it was in the North. 

“I can watch them for a bit if you want to warm up.” Came a voice from beside Dria. 

Dria looked around to see Jon Snow, Ned Stark’s bastard son, standing to her side. He was two years Dria’s senior, the same as his half-brother Robb Stark, but unlike Robb, Jon took time to talk to Dria. Robb didn’t mean to be rude to her, he did actually like her, he just rarely had the time to speak with the servants. Jon was different. He often went out of his way to seek out Dria and have a conversation. 

Dria felt her pale, cold cheeks flush now as he smiled at her. He was very handsome. He had thick black hair around his face and gentle eyes that instantly put Dria at ease. He was a good friend to her, perhaps the only true friend she had in this new life in Winterfell. He didn’t  _ have  _ to speak to her like Sansa and Arya did, he wasn’t  _ forced  _ to out of convenience like the rest of the servants, he didn’t simply seek her out like the rest of the Stark family. Dria liked Jon. She liked him a lot. And he liked her just as much. Though he wouldn’t make it too obvious.

“I can’t do that, my lord.” Dria replied. 

“I keep telling you,” Jon smiled at her, “I’m not a Lord. Jon is enough.” 

Dria looked at him. He had told her numerous times to call him Jon. It felt wrong. Too personal. Unless… was that why he wanted her to call him Jon? To  _ be  _ personal?

“I can’t do that, Jon.” Dria repeated. She blushed further. 

“Not even for a minute? You look frozen.” Jon stated. They were leaning against the fence that surrounded the perimeter of the courtyard as Arya chased Sansa with a handful of snow. 

“I am a bit.” Dria admitted. She pulled her cloak colder. “How do you Northerners cope?”

“You’ll get used to it soon enough.” Jon smiled at her warmly. He paused and then he reached out with his gloved hands. “Here.” He said. Dria frowned at him in question. Before she could comment he had cupped her frozen fingers in his warm ones and cradled her hands. Instantly she felt warmth flow back into them. She felt her face flush too as her unusual eyes met his dark ones. He smiled widely.

“Better?” He asked. Dria nodded. Jon began to slowly rub his hands back and forth to encourage her fingers to warm up more. She let out a small gasp that sent a cloud of warm air from her lips. This felt nice. 

Jon seemed to think the same. There was a moment as their eyes met and he seemed to lean forward just a little…

“Arya!” Sansa’s angry shout filled the air. Dria gasped again and pulled her hands from Jon’s, turning to where the girls were. Arya had let loose her snowball and hit Sansa clear in the middle of the head. Arya was collapsed on the floor laughing her head off. Dria and Jon hurried around the fence to the scene. Dria gripped Sansa’s arms as Sansa explained what had happened in a shrill voice. Jon hauled Arya to her feet and tried not to laugh. 

“There’s no damage.” Dria said gently. Her Southern voice was already becoming laced with a Northern accent. 

“I don’t care!” Sansa shrieked. “I want Arya punished!” 

“Go inside and change.” Jon said as he held Arya back. Arya fought furiously against him but he held firm. “You’ll warm up and get over it soon enough.” 

Sansa stalked away through the snow in anger, slamming into the castle. 

There was a pause as Dria looked back at Jon and Arya. Then they all spluttered with laughter. 

“That was naughty, Arya.” Dria managed to say eventually. 

“Funny though.” Arya shrugged. 

“You’d best go and apologise to Sansa.” Dria said. 

“No fear.” Arya raised an eyebrow. “If I go now she’ll kill me.” 

“Arya has a point.” Jon said wisely. Dria shook her head at them both. 

“You really shouldn’t have done that.” Dria felt guilty that she hadn’t been paying attention, too lost in Jon was she. 

“It was just a snowball. It didn’t hurt her.” Arya pulled her arms from Jon’s grip and stooped to scoop up more snow. “See.” 

She threw a snowball at Dria and hit her in the chest. Dria gasped and shivered as the snow made impact. Jon and Arya spluttered with laughter again as Dria stared at Arya. 

“You are impossible, my lady.” Dria stooped and scooped up snow herself. She ignored her frozen fingers as she balled it up and threw it at Arya. Arya ducked out of the way and the snowball hit Jon instead. Arya laughed as Jon blinked at Dria. She couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Now you’ve done it.” Jon said. He scooped up a ball and threw it at Dria, but Dria dived behind Arya and used her as a shield. 

The fight was on. The three of them spent a good fifteen minutes throwing snowballs at each other, each of them soaked and freezing by the end. It was only as Septa Mordane stormed out of the doors that they stopped. 

“What is the meaning of this!” She cried. “Lady Sansa is upstairs in a bath, freezing cold and you three are out here behaving like wild animals. Look at the state of all of you!!” Mordane took in their sorry appearances, hair hanging in their faces from the weight of the snow. Dria was colder than ever but she was smiling on the inside. “Arya, get inside at once and apologise to Sansa, and then get in the bath. You’ll catch your death.” 

Arya hung her head and scuttled inside. Dria made a move to follow her but Mordane held up a hand to stop her. 

“You’re still new here, Adria, and are learning how we do things. This is not even close.” Mordane scolded.

“It was my fault…” Jon started. 

“I’m sure it was.” Mordane scolded. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Inside, both of you.” Mordane turned on her heel and stalked away. Dria hung her head. 

“I’m so sorry.” Jon whispered from beside her. Dria blinked at him. 

“Why?” She smiled a little. “That’s the most fun I’ve had since I came to Westeros.” 

Jon smiled back at her. He glanced at the castle to check that Mordane had gone inside, and then he leaned towards Dria and kissed her softly on the cheek. 

“I’m glad you did come to Westeros.” He whispered before hurrying away. 

For a moment Dria stood in the snow, soaked and frozen to the core. She gently put her freezing fingertips to the spot where he had kissed her. It was the only part of her that was warm. Did this mean he did want to be more than friends? Was that even allowed?

Dria hurried inside to make sure Arya wasn’t killing Sansa, her mind reeling. How could a snowball fight do so much?


End file.
